


Therapeutic Interventions

by summerofspock



Series: Recovering [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Human, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Developing Relationship, Gift Giving, M/M, and they were doctors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:58:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/pseuds/summerofspock
Summary: "It might be silly," Aziraphale began, glancing around the room in that nervous way of his. "But I'm very thankful you kissed me last year. I don't know if it was the alcohol or the season that made you so bold but it—that decision changed my life for the better and I'm so glad we ended up here."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Recovering [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615501
Comments: 95
Kudos: 745





	Therapeutic Interventions

**Author's Note:**

> currently the final planned installment of this AU. that being said, i'll probably come back occasionally to play in this sandbox!
> 
> beta'ed by seekwill!

Crowley was in love. Plain and simple. He’d known he was in love the moment Aziraphale had stuffed his hands down his trousers in the loo nearly a year ago. He’d accepted this fact with the same aplomb he accepted everything else. There were things you couldn’t change and there were things you didn’t want to change and Crowley, very honestly, did not want to change being in love with Aziraphale even if it was a bit inconvenient at times.

Like when they went to dinner and Aziraphale wiggled happily in his seat over the creme brulee and Crowley had to catch the words before they fell out of his mouth. Or when they collapsed onto the pillows after their increasingly athletic—Crowley had convinced Aziraphale to go to yoga with him for this express purpose—sex and Crowley looked at that beautiful face, the words fought their way up his throat and he had to swallow hard around them.

It wasn’t that Crowley didn’t want to say them. It was just that it had taken Aziraphale nearly a year to agree to a date and they’d only been doing that for three months now. Crowley wasn’t about to toss himself at Aziraphale’s feet and proclaim undying love. Even if that was sort of how he felt.

So instead he sat quietly across from him at restaurants and laid down next to him in bed, staring at him and thinking _I LOVE YOU_ with all the intensity of the sun. But, in classic Aziraphalean fashion, Aziraphale didn’t notice. He’d been a good sport about it all, going along with Crowley’s habit of drawing his face in every free corner of his sketchbook, and mindlessly calling him his boyfriend. In fact, Aziraphale had seemed pleased about the whole boyfriend thing. A very big win on the books if Crowley said so.

And Crowley wasn’t a coward. Sure, he liked to keep his feelings close to the chest but Aziraphale was perfect. Surely someone that perfect deserved to know that they were loved.

Crowley was working up to it. He’d say it once he was certain Aziraphale wouldn’t get that look in his eye. The one he used to get every time Crowley asked him to dinner before he scuttled off in terror.

Bit of a blow to the ego, that.

The issue was…

The issue was that it was Christmas. And the annual work do at the pub was coming up and Crowley most definitely thought of it as an anniversary even though he was certain Aziraphale didn’t. So he wasn’t going to get an anniversary gift. Christmas was hard enough. What did one get for their boyfriend of three months but actually a year who they were in love with but didn’t want to tell? A wallet?

So he was set on figuring that out while he pointedly tried to forget he wanted to shower Aziraphale with gifts.

"What should I get Aziraphale for Christmas?" Crowley asked over his bimonthly lunch with Anathema as he poked forlornly at his chips instead of eating them.

Anathema crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow.

"What? Crowley demanded.

"First I have to hear you whine about him not giving you the time of day for nearly a year and now I have to give input on gifts?"

"I did not whine," Crowley said with a pout.

Anathema rolled her eyes. "You’re the one who’s obsessed with him. Just pick an interest, buy a thing. Easy."

It was not easy.

It was just that Crowley knew everything Aziraphale liked and when he went out shopping or browsed online, he wanted to buy it all. Boutique chocolates where you could design a unique assortment of flavors—too boring. First class flight to Paris for the new year—too extravagant. Monogrammed bloody cufflinks—too stuffy.

He growled and clicked out of his browser, slamming the lid of his laptop shut in frustration. He had a week, just a week before the Christmas party and he wanted to give Aziraphale his gift there. It wouldn’t be an anniversary gift but doing it then would soothe the desperate thing inside him that demanded he give Aziraphale the world on a string.

His phone pinged and he grabbed with an angry grunt that immediately dissolved when he saw Aziraphale’s name on his screen

_Are you busy_

Crowley smirked and tapped out a quick response.

_Absolutely not_

Aziraphale’s response was lightning quick.

_Come over?_

It turned out ten pm booty calls were pretty great when they were with someone you loved.

* * *

Aziraphale pulled him onto his chest and Crowley sighed in contentment. This was the best place in the universe, beat out all the planets and stars being in Aziraphale’s arms.

Aziraphale rubbed his hand down Crowley’s back and kissed his head. His heart clenched and the words made their nightly appearance.

_Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou_

"Do you think Gabriel’s going to wear those antlers to the Christmas party?" Crowley asked instead.

Aziraphale barked out a laugh. "I certainly hope so. Perhaps the highlight of the last party."

Crowley twisted so that his chin rested on Aziraphale’s chest.

"Gabriel’s stupid reindeer ears were the highlight of last year?" he asked incredulously. "Way to hurt a bloke’s ego."

Aziraphale spluttered, his chest shaking with the sounds. "Oh, of course you—I wasn’t thinking about—you were very good."

Aziraphale was blushing while Crowley laughed himself sick.

_Fuck, I love you._

* * *

Crowley was no closer to saying the words when the day of the party actually arrived. He and Aziraphale were set to meet at the pub where they would get respectably sloshed and make fun of their colleagues.

Unfortunately, Crowley was also no closer to deciding what to give Aziraphale so he gave up. They hadn't agreed to gifts and if he waited until Christmas proper he'd have a bit more time to work himself up to it.

Aziraphale was waiting for him at the bar, looking beautiful as always. Crowley's heart skipped a beat when he saw him. Also like always.

Aziraphale kissed him in greeting but when he pulled away, he bit his lip nervously.

Crowley frowned. "What's wrong?"

Aziraphale fidgeted and then pulled a small flat box from his pocket and pushed it into Crowley’s hands.

"I know we didn't talk about exchanging Christmas gifts but it is sort of our anniversary," Aziraphale said as Crowley gaped at the box in his hand. "I wanted to get you something."

_Our anniversary._

Crowley thought back uselessly to the cufflinks he'd decided against and left on his breakfast bar; the bespoke chocolates on his coffee table; the first edition Wilde he'd known Aziraphale would be in a tizzy over.

"This is"—the words were in his throat, he was choking—"this is very thoughtful."

Crowley plucked at the bow but found his hands enveloped by Aziraphale's warm ones.

"It might be silly," Aziraphale began, glancing around the room in that nervous way of his. "But I'm very thankful you kissed me last year. I don't know if it was the alcohol or the season that made you so bold but it— that decision changed my life for the better and I'm so glad we ended up here."

Crowley's heart was a hot air balloon, inflating and inflating until he was stretched to the very edge.

Breathe in breathe in breathe in.

"I love you so fucking much."

Breathe out.

Aziraphale's hand flew to his chest. "Crowley, I—"

Crowley shook his head. His tongue was dry and thick and his heart was no longer expanding; it was just a beating thing. Flesh and blood.

Cool hands were on his cheeks, directing his gaze to Aziraphale's face. It was that gorgeous upturned nose, that soft pink mouth, the shine of his seaglass eyes.

"I love you," Aziraphale said.

"Holy shit," Crowley breathed.

Aziraphale kissed him sweetly, Crowley chasing his mouth when he pulled away.

"I don't want you to get distracted," Aziraphale admonished, cheeks pink.

"I'm already distracted. Come back here." Crowley tugged on the front of Aziraphale's jumper and kissed him again, this time parting his lips with his tongue, slowly tracing his mouth, tasting him. He would never be over the way Aziraphale's kiss sparked something in him, made his stomach swoop, his fingers prickle. His chest felt tight and for a terrifying moment he thought he might cry.

But Doctor Anthony J. Crowley did not cry.

Pushing through the sensation, he pulled away and smirked at Aziraphale who was newly flushed and looking gorgeous. "You know what would be a fitting way to celebrate our anniversary—"

"If you say handjobs in the loo…"

"Handjobs in the loo," Crowley finished and Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Meet me there in five minutes," Aziraphale said. Crowley had known it was a token protest.

He was about to get his hands on Aziraphale. _His boyfriend_ , his mind added. _Who loved him_.

There was a low squealing noise and Crowley realized it was him, a quiet keening rumbling through his chest.

Fumbling open the box Aziraphale had left him with, Crowley bit his tongue when he saw the contents. Two tickets to Paris. For the new year.

He slipped them into his pocket and swallowed around the lump in his throat.

He had a boyfriend to shag and then take home.

And shag again.

* * *

"C'mon love," Aziraphale said, moving his hand slowly between Crowley's legs. Crowleys hips jerked uselessly as Aziraphale fingered him open.

"Do you think you can come from this?" Aziraphale asked, voice sliding into Crowley's mind slow as syrup.

"No, I—not enough—'ziraphale," Crowley whined and pushed down around Aziraphale's fingers as they carefully stroked his prostate.

"Would you like to come in my mouth?" Aziraphale asked, lighting Crowley up from the inside. He'd taken to little phrases in bed that were absolutely Crowley's undoing. Crowley had wanted it of course. It was part of why he'd been whispering filthy things in the first place; so that Aziraphale would say them back.

Aziraphale didn't wait for an answer, just bent forward and took Crowley's cock in his mouth. When he moved like that Crowley could see the way his stomach rolled soft and...and...

"Fuck!" he shouted as Aziraphale took him all the way down. No mean feat.

Aziraphale fucked him with his fingers and sucked him mercilessly, the dual points of stimulation forcing the breath out of Crowley.

"'Zira—im gonna—'"

Aziraphale hummed around his cock and that was it, Crowley's orgasm drawn out of him as he gasped and sank his hands into Aziraphale's hair.

Aziraphale withdrew his fingers, mouth sliding off with a pop as he crawled up Crowley's body, slipping his own spend into Crowley's mouth as their tongues slid together.

Crowley moaned into his mouth, clutching him tight. His lizard brain screaming, _warm soft love keep._

When they finally settled into a good old fashioned cuddle, Crowley ran his fingers through Aziraphale's hair.

"I love you," he said, the words something like relief after so long being leashed.

Aziraphale kissed his neck, sending a shiver through him. "I love you too, darling."

Crowley hummed contentedly, wrapping his arm around Aziraphale's shoulders and holding him tight.


End file.
